


Resistence

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Original Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-11
Updated: 2001-08-11
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: What if someone new was thrown into the West Wing?





	Resistence

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Title: Resistance  
Author: Loquita  
Category: New Character  
Rating: PG  
Summary: What if someone new was thrown into the middle of the West Wing staff and then what if it wasn't a shooting but a different kind of attack on The President and his staff?   
Disclaimer: The characters of The West Wing are the property of NBC. I do not make money from this story, it is only for personal entertainment purposes. The character of "Grace" is my property.

"Democracy is supposed to give you the feeling of choice, like Painkiller X and Painkiller Y. But they're both just aspirin."

*****

Josh led me down a narrow hall that turned 4 or 5 times in different ways. I was lost in this place already. I had arrived yesterday in D.C. and went to the White House because the President was considering me for a position on The President's Council of Science and Technology or some other strange sounding office. I was lead to a room where four men sat. One who had gray hair and did most of the talking, another was balding and frowned a lot, and the last two men were closer to my age, the cute one and the funny one.

The funny one, Josh, was now showing me to my office in the West Wing because I was now the newest member of the senior staff. Josh said it was a unanimous decision but I suspected the bald guy voted against me. He had repeatedly asked if I had any political, law, or diplomatic experience. Having gotten my Ph.D. from Notre Dame recently, I was tempted to answer that at ND, hosting opposing football team fans each fall was being diplomatic. Only President Bartlett would have appreciated it and he wasn't in the room, so I kept it to myself.

I knew why I got the job with complete political inexperience. I just wondered if these guys knew. Josh stopped at a door and opened it saying, "Here's your new office." The First Lady was standing inside with a grin on her face. Well, if the boys didn't know, they will now.

"Hello, Dear." She said while giving me a hug, "how was the flight yesterday and how is the hotel?"

"Fine." I tried peaking at Josh to see if he was surprised. I knew Abby while I was in graduate school. We worked with her hospital team on a new treatment being developed for bone cancer patients. It was when President Bartlett was only Governor Bartlett.

I graduated and interviewed many places but Abby knew I was having a hard time finding a job. Just the week before on the phone I had teased her that if her husband improved the economy I wouldn't be in this fix. It didn't go over as a joke. So, here we were, Abby trying to reconcile her guilt and I'm wondering how she convinced the President to hire me.

Leo, the gray haired man who I learned was the Chief of Staff, entered the office holding a potted plant. "Welcome to the staff. The President wanted to welcome you personally if you'd follow me." Josh excused himself and Abby followed us winding through more hallways. I was suddenly in the Oval Office. My heart jumped into my throat and landed somewhere south of my bellybutton. I had seen it on TV but this- wow. President Bartlett entered from another door.

"Grace!" He shook my hand. "So good to see you, Leo tells me you're our new staff member." I just smiled. I never said I'd take the job, everyone pretty much assumed. "Abby." He kissed her on the cheek then said to her and Leo, "Give us a minute."

After they left, he and I sat down and he asked, "You're saying yes, right?"

"Sir, are you sure you want me? I have no idea what I'd do around here."

"I need a trusted staff member to give me advice. You've always done that for free, now I'd just pay you for it."

"Sir." I was having a hard time concentrating on our conversation, I was still in awe of the room we were in.

"Give it 6 months. Abby convinced me I need an expert on biotechnology, medical, and environmental issues." Ah, that's how she'd done it. I had serious concerns about the way that the staff would view me. On the other side, I respected and admired the President and First Lady, and I had no idea how to tell them no.

"I'll give it 6 months and then I'll turn you down."

"Deal."

***** Six Months Later*****

At 10:12 PM I found CJ sitting on a step near the pressroom. A close bonding that could only occur between two women versus a staff of men had developed over the past 6 months.

"Hey." I said. She patted the step next to her so I sat.

"When we were kids, did you know someone who could have come to school with a gun?" The country had been dealing with another school shooting this week. This one happened about 40 miles from where CJ grew up so she was taking it particularly hard. The 13-year-old kid shoot 3 classmates and a teacher.

"We had metal detectors," I shrugged. I understood this stuff better than her, Josh, and Sam. I went to school in Chicago, while they had attended upper-class private schools growing up. Still, I tried to explain it to her, "I saw a kid get slashed with a knife right in front of me in the hall one morning. The next day they installed metal detectors." She turned to look at me for the first time since I sat down.

"I can't even imagine." Her eyes where a dull color. "My biggest concerns at 13 were if Matt Lese liked me back, if my boobs were going to get bigger, and how to convince my father to let me wear lipstick." We sat in silence. The West Wing was almost empty, the President went to the residence 20 minutes ago, Toby and Josh went home, and Sam and Leo were nearly done.

"They never did." I said finally. She wrinkled her forehead at me, "What?"

"Your boobs."

Danny entered the landing above us as we struggled to keep from giggling.

"What's the joke?" He asked.

"CJ would love to explain it to you, if you bring a magnifying glass." I said to a confused looking Danny. CJ's giggles renewed but I also saw her cheeks turn a little red.

"Well, I'm outta here." I got up off the step and headed toward my office.

"Bye, Trouble." She yelled.

A few minutes later, Sam peeked his head into my office.

"How did your meeting on the hill go?" I asked him.

"Fine," he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, "apparently better than how things went around here today."

"You heard."

"Josh told me." His nose crunched up, this I knew meant he was choosing his next words carefully. "You know it's just how Toby is, he's that way with all of us."

I rolled my eyes. "You and I both know that's not true. It's different when it's me." I plopped down in my chair. "I wasn't hired for my ability or experience, I was hired because the President and First Lady like me."

He interrupted me, "but you work hard and you've done a great job."

"Yeah, and every time I start to gain everyone's respect around here, Toby finds a way to remind them I don't belong here and I'm back to where I started. I've been fighting an uphill battle and I'm tired. I told the President I'd give it 6 months and I have and what have I gotten from it?" My voice was getting louder as I went. "Not a single weekend off, a staff that doesn't respect me, Toby questioning my intelligence on a daily basis, and the First Lady acting like my mother."

This was getting out of control. I didn't want to yell at Sam, so I took a deep breath and returned my voice to normal. "She's sending me to a conference in New York in her place tomorrow. It's like splitting up two quarreling children."

Sam had listened the whole time without registering any expression and still remained silent after I stopped my ranting. I counted the wall clock tick 11 times before he spoke and when he did, it was a slight whisper.

"There's not a single reason for you to stay." I couldn't tell if it was an observation or a question. Oh man, I thought, I couldn't believe he was going to start this now.

I finally answered him, "not the right reasons."

His eyes were still focused on his shoes when he said, "I could give you a ride to the airport tomorrow. I'll even buy you breakfast."

"Sam." I warned him.

"What?" His head snapped up. "We won't be working together so you can't use that as an excuse." His voice was on the edge of snippy and I felt anger burn on my cheeks. I closed my eyes to calm myself and I could smell his cologne. It would be so easy for me to walk over to him, put my head on his chest, and let his arms close around me. At that moment, I was having difficulty remembering the 1,453 reasons I had for us not getting involved. "Pick me up at 4:20?" I asked. Someone knocked at the door and startled us.

"Come in." I answered.

"See you then." Sam said before moving past CJ coming into my office. She was wearing her coat and carrying her briefcase.

"That was quick." I said as I tried reading her face for signs of an argument between her and Danny.

"Not a social visit." She explained. "Can I walk out with you?" I nodded and shoved files on my desk into my leather case and buckled it shut.

"Reading material for the plane." I said as we walked out of the office. We made our way through the deserted West Wing and to the door of the parking garage. At my car we stopped and CJ started stumbling over words.

"Grace, I just have to ask, I don't want you to...well, Danny overheard a conversation today, one reporter told another that he was going to take you down and the President along with you." She fooled with a button on her coat.

"You said you had to ask me..." I prompted her.

"Is there anything in your past, something that the press could use to, you know.... If I'm prepared, I can protect you from anything they might have found out." She looked at me as if she were an embarrassed teenager caught kissing a boy.

"No, CJ, I've never done anything illegal, amoral, or otherwise." I said and she took a cleansing breath.

"Okay, good. Don't worry then, I'll take care of whatever they've come up with." I tried not to chuckle. It was like sending her into battle.

"Goodnight, CJ."

I was on American Airlines flight 370 to New York, after being fed an airport breakfast by Sam. He was much too cheerful at 4:20 AM when he showed up at my door. Though I have to admit he's a wise man, he came armed with a large coffee in his hand.

The movie screen had been showing CNN to the mostly business travelers on the flight since we took off. I was only half listening when they began to report a bomb squad was at the White House. They showed a snapshot of 6 men holding automatic rifles and the reporter explained that the group, "The Anarchists for Utopian Non-Government" was believed to have called in the bomb threat earlier that morning. My jaw actually hung open as I listened.

This was too unbelievable but not because it was rare. Bomb threats were called in every day to the White House, what had me worried was why this one was different to warrant them responding to it. My stomach churned, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed. Sam didn't answer, my heart rate increased and I dialed a different number.

"Yeah." CJ answered her office phone and I calmed a little.

"What the hell is going on there?" I didn't even say hello I realized.

"Oh, It's just Bill at CNN sensationalizing. The Secret Service say it's nothing, just in case." She was smacking on gum, indicating she was about to do a briefing.

"Okay." I said it with unsureness.

"Where are you?" She changed the subject.

"Somewhere over New Jersey. I think we'll land soon." CNN was showing the picture of the men again and something inside my head clicked into place.

"My God." I said out loud.

"What?"

"I know one of those guys. He's a scientist I met once, I can't remember what he researches."

I was silent as thoughts too quick and convoluted to understand twisted around in my mind. There was something there but I couldn't quite grasp it.

"Listen, Trouble," CJ took out her gum, it must be briefing time. "I gotta go now but you have fun talking to all your fellow nerdy science people-"

"CJ." I cut her off. "I think it could be possible that they're looking for the wrong kind of bomb." I blurted out.

"What exactly do you mean?" She said slowly trying to follow my logic.

"Just go talk to the President right now. Tell him to make sure they look for a chemical or gas or something, something biological. I just think it's suspicious that the bomb threat is made by a group that has a scientist in it."

"OK." She sounded unconvinced.

"Please, CJ, just ask him to order a search. They're already looking around for a bomb they could just keep their eyes open for other stuff at the same time."

"OK, I'll go talk to him. Call when you land." She said and hung up on me. As I endured the last 11 minutes of the flight and 7 minutes of descent and landing, I could only think of the reaction of the staff to my request. They already thought I was crazy, at least I was actually giving them a reason now. Once in the terminal I dialed again and Mrs. Laningham put me through saying, "He's been waiting for your call."

"Alright, should we get everyone out of the White House?" The President asked over the phone.

"No, call in the Center for Disease Control, they're trained to handle this type of thing. They will begin searching for any sign that something was released into the air or water," I explained.

"Okay, we'll keep you posted." I hung up and said a prayer I was paranoid. I collected my baggage and met my contact who drove me to my first event, a roundtable discussion on healthcare issues. My mind could not concentrate on the HMO debate happening around me. I had been willing my phone to ring and when it did, I excused myself from the room.

"Have they found any device yet?" I asked. I recognized Sam trying to keep a calm voice as he updated me, "they found something in the venting system in the basement." He took a deep breath and exhaled into my ear over the phone. "They've got everyone in the building gathered in the East Room. The CDC are wearing big white suits and taking everyone's blood."

"You want me there?" It should have been a statement, I knew he did.

"No." He whispered, "I'm glad to know you're safe far away from here."

The roundtable finished and I was escorted back to a hotel room to freshen up before a reception with Medical School faculty from around the country. CNN was now reporting that everyone who worked, lived, or visited the White House were being kept in the East Room while the Secret Service continue their search. A press conference was scheduled in 15 minutes. My cell phone rang. I loved getting the news before CNN.

"Yep."

"The President wants you to return to D.C. immediately." Sam emphasized the word "President" to let me know he didn't approve of the plan. I dragged out the word, "Okay."

"They are setting up this big, white, bubble passage-way thing between the White House and the conference center across the street for us to use for medical observation. CJ's gonna tell the press, then we move over there and we can't bring anything with us." He paused for effect, "including phones."

Okay, this was bad. I knew what the CDC was doing, this was Biosafty level 4 procedure, quarantine and all, and it was enough to make me feel full-scale nausea. "I'm on a plane," I said and hung up.

The return flight to D.C. seemed to take hours longer than the one earlier that morning. My mind kept wandering through all possible scenarios. None of them were good. The truth was, chemical or biological warfare was made to be highly communicable, quick acting, and of course, the whole point was to be deadly. By the time they figured out what it was and how it worked, it could already be too late.

Director of the CDC, Dr. Tom Capp, met me at the gate in Reagen National with two Secret Service agents. In the car he filled me in. "We've got everyone in the Convention Hall with a lab attached. We have the use of the conference rooms next to it. The President informed us that you call all the shots." Hundreds of reporters swarmed us when we arrived at the hotel, taking our pictures and shouting out questions. Once inside, I was escorted to a room with computers, phones, and a number of men in suits or lab coats standing around talking. When I walked in, the room went silent. This must be what it feels like to be Jed Bartlett, I thought.

Everyone took their seats around the conference table in the middle of the room. Various doctors working for the CDC, NIH, and other federal offices introduced themselves. Two of them I already knew from my work over the past 6 months, Dr. Kyle Hutton from the CDC and Dr. Edmund Hiachi from the NIH.

Dr. Hiachi was running the lab and announced to the group, "Only 15 samples have been looked at, bursting blood cells were observed in 7 of them." This was an indication of viral infection. This news brought shock and silence to the room because it was unknown territory. Chemicals, from a medical standpoint, would have been good news. Viruses were being researched as possible weapons in the future, but someone must have decided to run the first test on human subjects today. And decided to include the President of the United States among them. The worst possible scenario I had came up with on the plane was happening.

Chairman Fitzwallace, who stood at the perimeter of the room, broke the silence, "I can tell you that intelligence is trying to figure out what's going on. Until today we believed that none of our enemies had this kind of technology. Leave the investigation and response to us, you people just figure out how to cure them."

The words were supposed to be a pep talk, the problem was Fitz didn't realize he'd just spoken the biggest concern of all the doctors in the room. There has never been a cure found for any virus, ever. There are ways to help with symptoms, boost a patient's immune system, but in reality, they just have to run their course and a doctor can only hope the patient lives through it. I decided to take charge and give out assignments.

"Alright, let's focus on confirming who's infected and plan to take blood again in 2 hours, others will probably come up later." I said and everyone around the table nodded. "Meanwhile, Dr. Graften, get a group in the convention center to find out all patient's drug allergies, medications they take, heart conditions, everyone's medical history. Dr. Carson, get the lab to test known proteins, see if we can identify this thing then-" I was cut off by an argument occurring outside the door of our meeting.

"You don't understand!" I recognized the indignant voice of a 19-year-old. I opened the door to Zoey pointing her finger in the face of the Secret Service guarding the door. When she saw me, she threw her arms around my neck and I dragged her inside the room to the couch. "Sit." I commanded. I turned to the men to wrap it up. "Also, someone get them a phone in there so we can talk to them. We'll meet here again in 1 hour." Kyle Hutton had crossed the room and handed Zoey a glass of water, then sat down next to her on the couch. As the room cleared out I knelt down to face her.

"What's happening?" She asked with teary eyes.

"We don't know yet but these doctors are going to find out." I answered. Kyle added, "you shouldn't be here."

"I'm not going anywhere else, you just try to make me." She answered him. Kyle and I met each other's eyes.

"Okay, but you're going to have to pitch in and help, you can't just be in the way." I told her. Zoey nodded in agreement.

30 minutes later, with the phone between my ear and shoulder, I had CJ on the other end but she wasn't talking to me. She, Toby, and Sam were arguing about wording in the statement they were preparing for the press. I listened to their voices for a minute before I interrupted, "CJ?" I think the hint of fear in my voice caused her to instantly listen to me instead of the guys.

"What?"

"Who's going to do the briefing?" I asked. Silence hung for a second.

"You're it, kiddo."

I straightened my skirt and smoothed my hair, than reread the statement for the 8th time. The press outside, who replaced the White House Press Corp in quarantine with everyone else, had now been shown into another large meeting room inside the hotel. They were seated in front of the podium I walked up to. The flashbulbs blinded me and the voices from the room rang in my ears. For a moment, I couldn't breath.

"The President of the United States, his staff, all who work or visited the White House today have become sick. Doctors are working to identify what is causing the illness and the Secret Service and FBI are working to determine if anyone was responsible for causing the outbreak. There is no reason to panic..."

I was in a daze as I read the page in front of me and walked out of the room that was yelling questions at me. None of it was effecting me yet. I was aware enough to notice that I had detached myself from what I was doing. Maybe it was shock, or simply a defense mechanism. Whatever it was, I held up my head and left the room like I owned D.C.

I sat in the room we were now calling "central" surrounded by noise and people. I was staring at the picture of the men who called in the bomb threat this morning. The one man that I knew to be a doctor was in the back row, second to the left. I played through the day I met him in my mind. I had gone on a horrible date about two months ago with a reporter from the White House Press named Jack Martin. Jack introduced me to his best friend, Dr. Jay Stone, who was in that picture. They had told me what they thought was a funny story. Something Jay had brought home from the lab one night accidentally killed the neighbor's dog. I wondered about the "accidentally" part even then.

Another phone rang in the background and Kyle answered it. He tapped me on the shoulder and handed it to me.

"Hello Doc." Sam tried sounding cheerful.

"How are you guys holding up?" I asked.

"OK, except Toby, who has no idea what to do when he doesn't have work in front of him, I think just might flip out."

"Well, that would be entertaining for you."

"Yeah."

"Try not to worry. We have very smart, talented doctors working hard, they are going to come up with a way to make all of you better." I tried to convey hope and calmness in my voice.

"Gracie, It's OK." He took a deep breath. "Of all of us, I'm glad you're the one who's out there." His words caused repressed guilt to break past my defenses. I wanted to cry and scream, but all we did was remain silent on the phone. Neither of us wanted to hang up but neither could say anything more.

It was so symbolic of us, to remain somewhere in the middle of indecision. I realized that over the last few months this was making me more tired than the lack of free weekends or arguments with Toby, I was tired of fighting off what I felt towards Sam. Dr. Hiachi entered the room and handed Kyle a note. The two men walked over and handed the slip of paper to me.

"Sam, I gotta go. I'll talk to you soon."

Results from the new round of blood tests showed the President had the virus in his blood. Toby, CJ, and Leo as well as almost 65% of the people quarantined in the room were now showing signs of infection. The room of doctors and technicians became quiet. It felt like someone had just started a stopwatch and I could hear the annoying ticking away of seconds. Sitting here staring at a piece of paper wasn't going to do anything.

The next two hours I threw myself into working on anything I could get my hands on. I was writing press releases, talking on the phone, running tests, reading papers, everything at once. Someone brought food in but just the smell made me feel sick. I left the room telling Kyle I was going somewhere quiet to read. He followed me down the hall.

"I think you should go in and see them."

"There's too much to do." I insisted.

"Grace, it's normal to be worried about your friends but if you drive yourself nuts you can't help them. Go in and see them." He put a hand on my shoulder and my eyes shot to his.

"I am fine Dr. Hutton. Please let me do my job." I turned away and he let me go. 20 minutes ago someone had finally gotten all of the publications of Dr. Jay Stone to me. The FBI had told me there was no reason to believe he was a suspect yet. They had no hard evidence as to who might be behind it, even in spite of the possibility the group might have called in the bomb threat. But my women's intuition was working in overload. Something about Dr. Stone and his connection to this group and his research, it all bothered me.

I spent most of the night reading and re-reading his papers searching for some clues. He was a biochemist and had done some work on viruses but nothing other than common ones used by most researchers in his field were discussed, all of which were harmless. There was always the chance that he worked on something that wasn't published.

What was nagging at me the most was that this wasn't supposed to be happening yet. The use of viruses in biological warfare was still in the theory stages. Everyone was trying to understand how a virus works, no one yet could manipulate it to do something specific. As a biologist I was frustrated. But it was better than the other emotions I was trying not to feel.

I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock on the wall, 5:57 AM. I had been up all night and still not a single answer. My tired mind remembered the conversation CJ and I had the night before. She told me that Danny heard a reporter talking about the President and me, I had a hunch.

I walked back down the hall to the central room. It wasn't as busy as the night before, a few people where sleeping in chairs and couches that had been pushed against the walls when we took over the room in haste yesterday. Someone was on the phone in the corner and a technician was typing on a computer. I went to the phone that connected us to the quarantine room- more like gigantic quarantine hall. I pressed 44 and it rang. I spoke with a doctor on the other end and he set the phone done to find the person I wanted to speak to.

"Danny? It's Grace." I tried sounding upbeat but not cheerful.

"Hello, Trouble." Recently, he'd caught on to using CJ's nickname for me. "When are you going to get us out of here?"

I sucked in my breath.

"Danny, this is important. Can you tell me who the reporter was you overheard talking about me? You told CJ about it?"

"I didn't see. I only heard and I'm not sure-" Danny started to explain.

"Guess." I demanded.

"Well, it might have been Martin, but like I said, I'm not certain." My heart rate increased.

"Was Jack in the pressroom yesterday? Before the CDC showed up?" I asked, then held my breath as he answered.

"Actually, he was there in the morning. He tried to convince Karen from the New York Times to skip out of the press conference, I remember thinking that was weird. When she turned him down, he left. I haven't seen him since."

CJ and Danny must have misinterpreted what was overheard. Jack Martin was going to take the President and me down, but not with slander in the press as they assumed. He was actually talking about killing us, probably aided by his best friend Dr. Jay Stone and a new virus.

I told Danny to hang in there, hung up the phone and dialed the number the FBI had given us yesterday to provide them with new information.

By 8, the group reassembled in the central room and sipped coffee. Someone brought us some doughnuts and I tried to have a few bites. The doctor's update was dim, the first symptoms were observed overnight. Slight fever, chills, nausea, and a few reports of chest pains. Janitors, mess hall staff, a secret service agent and a few cleaning people were the first to show these signs. Three guys from the CDC had worked through the night with some secret service; they told us the first ones sick worked close to basement vent. Near where the believed release device had been found.

I took a few deep breaths at this news. The President and senior staff worked the farthest from the release site, maybe they would be the least affected. As new blood tests were being discussed, the door to the room was thrown open, several agents along with the Vice President came in.

"Is the President incapable of making decisions?" The Vice President demanded.

"Get out." I told him and turned back to my staff.

"No. You answer my questions. This country needs to be run by the right people." I swung back around to face him.

"The President is fine. He is fully aware and has no symptoms. IF he does progress to something worse than a cold, the doctors will let you and Chairman Fitzwallace know. In the meantime, we have a job to do and you, as usual, are getting in the way of us doing it." His eyes narrowed at my comment.

I didn't have a problem with him, well, other than hating the guy's guts. But that had more to do with a suggestive comment he made to CJ three months ago at a White House function. I did get annoyed with his constant attitude that he was the real president and we were simply playing pretend. Fitz showed up at the doorframe and the Vice President could see the standoff was over.

"I'll keep in touch." He added as he left with Fitz escorting him out. I took a deep breath and turned back to the doctors. Their eyes were a little wide and I think one or two jaws were dropped as well. I forgot how used to politics I had become over the last 6 months, maybe I'd learned more than I gave myself credit for. I looked at these scientists around me and realized I really wasn't one of them anymore.

The day passed slowly. I gave two more press conferences and the FBI had called to confirm that Jack Martin could been seen on videotape going down to the basement yesterday morning, they were now going to bring him and Dr. Stone in for questioning. Families of White House staff had gathered and the hotel had given everyone rooms to stay in. I couldn't bring myself to visit with anyone but Zoey gladly talked with Toby's brother, Leo's sister, her own aunts, uncles and older sisters, as well as Josh, Sam and CJ's parents. She was going upstairs every two hours to give them all updates.

By early evening I was drafting a third update for the press when my mind traveled back to the fight Jack and I had that night. He had too much to drink and pushed his way into my apartment. He became physical and I was fighting him off pretty well when Sam showed up at the door to give me some files. Jack left whispering that we weren't done yet. Sam only saw Jack leave and my wrinkled clothes and assumed the worst. He was angry for weeks but tried to pretend he was unaffected.

I rubbed my temples. Everything was so complicated.

Was it possible this is what Jack meant that night? If so, that would make this attack all because I wasn't willing on a first date. No, there had to be a better reason. Otherwise Jack Martin was a sick man. And guilt would become my new best friend.

Kyle called my name and I looked up.

"You want me to do the next one?" He asked.

"What?"

"The next press conference. Do you want me to do it? Give yourself a break for a while."

"No. I got it."

"Maybe you should-" he started but I cut him off.

"No. Kyle, don't start again." I snapped. I rubbed my temples more. It wasn't him I was angry with but he made an easier target. "Sorry, I just...just let me do what I need to right now, OK?"

"OK." He didn't sound convinced.

I gave another press conference. We were still trying to communicate hope and remaining upbeat. I could hear my own voice, it was tired and hollow and not anywhere close to hopeful.

The night dragged on. We had updates from the FBI, the investigation was moving quickly and they were confident. Fitz came to see me and in a hushed voice informed me that the National Security Advisors were more nervous than ever. The possibility that one of our own citizens could be behind this was worse than not having proper intelligence on our enemies. He told me to keep my head up and for God's sake, eat something.

It was near 3 AM when Kyle came into the central room from an attached lab. I was reading Dr. Stone's publications again waiting for something I missed to pop off the pages at me. Preferably wearing a sign saying, "This is the answer to it all." I opened my mouth to tell him my joke about the data wearing a sign, then I saw his eyes.

"What happened?"

"We lost one." His voice broke and he sat down next to me.

"Who?" I asked, my body frozen waiting to hear the worst.

"It's the janitor who got sick first."

For a while I couldn't speak. I needed to start my heart beating and my lungs breathing again. Then I processed what he said, the patient closest to the source became the sickest quickly and was now dead. I was sad for him but mostly I felt guilt for being so relieved. He finally spoke, "I think you should go in and see your friends." The 'you may not have the chance again' part was not spoken but I got the message anyway.

It would mean I would have to face my fears. I would have to look at them suffering with guilt and shame in my eyes. I can't save them and I'm not among them. I would have to say good-bye.

"I'm ready now." I whispered.

We walked down a carpeted hall with red striped wallpaper and ornate brass lamps on the walls. I remembered this was a hotel and convention center that we were using. We came to a large module attached to the old double doorway to the convention hall. The front of the module had a white door with gray metallic seals around it. He pushed a few buttons on a keypad and a swoosh sound lasted for more than a minute before the doors rolled open. We walked into a small chamber with an identical door two feet from the first. The first closed and sealed shut again. Suits hung on the wall and Kyle helped me into one. Complicated procedures with special black tape sealed all the seams and pieces of the suit together. A plastic face shield built in was small enough for my eyes but nothing more, it made peripheral vision impossible. Once both of us were ready, Kyle pressed more buttons on the second door and it released and slid open revealing the convention hall. Once inside, tubing that hung from the ceiling was attached to the back of my suit and I could breathe fresh air.

I took a look around. The hall was large, chandeliers hung from the ceiling and an elaborately decorated stage was on the far end. All around, partitions like the ones used in offices to form cubicles had been set up. Other doctors and nurses in similar suits walked around carrying charts and medications and blood samples. The lights were dim but not out and I remembered it was 3 in the morning and everyone would be sleeping.

Kyle motioned for me to follow him. We wound through the path created by the temporary walls until he stopped and pointed to 5 "rooms". He nodded to me and left me alone. I turned left first, Leo was asleep in a bed and his face had good color in it. I moved on to the next cubicle where the President and the First Lady were sleeping curled together in a large cot. Next was Josh, wearing an IV and an oxygen tube in his nose. To the right of the little hall, CJ lay in bed and she had kicked her blankets off. This hit me as strange, we teased her because she was always cold even in 80 degree weather.

I came up to her bedside and her eyes fluttered open. They grew wide when she recognized me.

"Grace." She breathed out with effort.

"Tell Danny...tell him...I miss my Fish." She struggled to get the words out. I couldn't speak, the reality of it all finally smacked me in the head like I had just been in a car accident. They were dying. Her eyes shut again and she slipped back to sleep. With tears in my own eyes I escaped the cubicle and moved next door. Sam was awake and he grinned when he saw me.

"Sam." I tried to talk past the heavy suit and the tears. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, this is all my fault. I'm the one who is supposed to be in here, not you." 

"Shh, that's not true." He grabbed for me but only could touch plastic and vinyl. "I have faith in you. I'm not scared." He touched the plastic in front of my face, behind it my tears ran down my cheeks. "I promise you, the next time I see you I'll wipe those tears away." He whispered.

"Oh, Sam." I wanted to tell him everything that I now understood. I had waited too long. I had made up excuses because I was afraid, not because I didn't care. I had waited and pushed him away for so long that I ran out of time. It was too late for us to ever have our chance and my heart was breaking. "I'm so sorry." I whispered. Sam was about to say more when Kyle stepped into the room and tugged at my arm. "Time to go, Grace." He sounded muffled behind his own suit. I was in a daze, I began to follow him back out when I remembered what CJ said.

"No, wait, one more. I have to see Danny. I have something I need to tell him."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please, Kyle, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." He stopped and was weighing something.

He caught my hand and led me in a new direction. In the opposite end of the conference hall there were no individual partitions, only large rooms with many beds lined up. Suddenly, an alarm rang and doctors rushed to one of the patient's side. They were trying to start the person's heart again. In a window of view between them I saw the patient's face.

"Toby." I whispered.

I watched in wonder as the doctors worked furiously. They got his heart started and were injecting various medications into his IV. I started to shake when I felt something on the outside of my suit, I turned to the right. Danny lay in one of the beds, reaching for my hand. His lips moved but I couldn't hear a sound coming out.

"Don't try to talk." I told him as I came to his side. Kyle was over talking to the doctors by Toby now. I patted Danny's arm to sooth him and leaned in close. "I have a message from CJ. She misses her 'Fish'." I pulled back to see his reaction. A smile curled on the edges of his lips. I leaned back in. "I'm gonna ask you later what exactly that means, Buddy." Kyle caught my arm.

"We really have to go now. They need these suits." He explained. I nodded and we hurried back to the double white doors. The process of leaving was even more involved. It included several washes of us in our suits with some foul smelling chemicals, then several rounds of filtering the air in the small room between the sets of doors. Finally we were able to remove the suits and leave through the outer door to the rest of the hotel.

Mid-morning Dr. Hitachi approached me with new lab results. The tests showed the virus infecting everyone shared some proteins found in a virus Dr. Stone researched.

"The strange thing is the virus in his research is transmitted through water, this one was released in the air." He shrugged, "maybe this isn't the answer at all."

"It's at least something to start on. Great work." I said. An argument started in the far end of the room. Zoey, who had been helping with simple things like making copies and phone calls this morning, had apparently thrown something out Dr. Kennon thought was important. In all her teenage glory, Zoey was yelling back at him defending herself. I launched out of my chair and hurried to her side.

"Ok, everyone, let's calm down. Zoey, where..." It was like a wave that began at the top of my head, it moved down to my ringing ears, through my chest, down my legs and I remember thinking I'd never passed out before, as my cheek felt the carpet.

I woke in a black room. A slit of light from under a door was across the room but otherwise it was black. I blinked three times trying to remember which office I was in and what time the President would be in the West Wing.

I blinked twice more and remembered everyone was sick. The door opened a crack and Zoey peaked in.

"I'm awake." I told her in a rough, sleep-filled voice.

"Oh." She entered and sat down leaving the door open and the hall light flooding in. Kyle was behind her. He stood as she sat down at my side and put her hand on my forehead. She probably had seen her mother do that a thousand times. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. What happened?"

"No food, no sleep for two days, it starts to catch up." Kyle answered. "How about some breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" I asked.

"You slept all afternoon and night." Zoey squeezed my hand. "You know something Grace, we all hate it when my Dad lectures. But he would tell you right now to take care of yourself because you are no good to others if you make yourself collapse. And he would be right."

"Besides," she tried sounding off-handed, "you're all I have right now."

"I didn't mean to scare you." I sighed and squeezed her hand back.

In the central room we ate muffins and fruit and had some coffee. The headache and shaking that had developed over the last three days were now gone I should have recognized the signs of shock and not taking care of myself.

After the food, my head felt clear and better able to focus. I gave Kyle the first press conference of the morning and was updated by Dr. Hitachi and the rest of the doctors. It was a good sign that no one else had died, but no one was improving either. I found an empty room down the hall and began re-reading Dr. Stone's publications for a fourth time, I knew something was there, I just couldn't see it.

I concentrated on the virus he worked on that was transmitted through water. Dr. Hitachi informed me yesterday that it shared some characteristics with the one now infecting the White House staff. The results were confusing, it's preferred host species were birds. It didn't infect cows or pigs or other animals, including humans. He noted that it could be found dormant in rivers in the Southwest but died within 2 hours in streams of the upper Northwest.

It didn't seem likely that this could infect humans unless he found a way to alter it.

My mind tumbled over itself. It died in streams of the Northwest. Cold streams of the Northwest. Birds had a body heat of 40° C, higher than humans or other mammals. Maybe the virus preferred warmer temperatures? He somehow managed to mutate it so it could infect humans with a body heat of 37° C. But the colder it got, the less likely it was able to survive, like in the cold streams.

"Lunchtime." Zoey announced as she walked in, "and you're eating if I have to shove it in your mouth myself."

"That's lovely. Your father is such a bad influence on you." I observed.

"You know, my Mom says that all the time." She smiled and pulled me out of my chair. The whole crew of doctors and staff ate sandwiches in the central room. After gulping down a turkey on wheat, I cornered Dr. Hitachi and asked him to run a few lab tests.

"Put infected blood at a range of temperatures, then test to see if it's still viable." He promised to have the results in a few hours. I continued to write the press releases but let Kyle handle giving them, he was doing a good job in front of the cameras. But I couldn't help but wish I could be watching CJ up there right now. How strange that some daily, mundane thing could suddenly be seen as comforting to me.

At 9:30 PM Dr. Hitachi came to me with the results. It showed at temperatures in the low 30's the virus could be completely denatured. I remembered seeing CJ last night with her blankets kicked off and thinking it was unusual. Was her body instinctively fighting the virus off by staying colder?

"How low can we drop their body temperatures but still be safe?" I asked, trying to remember my physiology classes from long ago.

"A few degrees at most. But some of them are very sick, lowering their temperature could be fatal even while eliminating the virus." He pointed out. I bit my bottom lip, thinking. If we left things alone every patient will get worse and maybe all will die. If we tried this, maybe a few would die but possibly more will live. I was in Vegas Hell, place your bets, spin the wheel and take your chances.

"We'll start immediately." I said.

I called over the rest of the room and explained what was happening. The CDC could bring in large cooling devices within two hours. Hot packs would be placed at the patient's lower necks to fool the hypothalamus, the organ that controls body temperature. Then we would place them in tubs of ice cold water and use digital monitors to make sure the temperature wasn't getting too low, some of the worse patients would get chilled blood transfusions. The entire staff was going to have to work at this, it would take several of us to work with only 3 or 4 patients for 6 hours. More biohazard suits would be needed as well. We set a schedule, in two hours all the necessary equipment would be in place and we would begin.

I tried to take a nap knowing a long 6 to 8 hours was ahead but my nerves wouldn't let me fully relax. At midnight, I entered the hall again. This time large numbers of people in suits were placing equipment and many of the partitions had been removed. Kyle had divided the patients into groups, 5 patients including one critical, were assigned to three medical staff members. After 6 hours we would stop, even if there were no signs of success.

I had two nurses working with me, the five patients were not people I knew. I suspected Kyle did that purposely. We began in rounds dunking them in tubs of ice water one by one. A temperature drop of a degree or two was all Dr. Hitachi would allow. Our five patients were lethargic but showed signs of protest and struggle each time we put then into the bath. One asked for a blanket over and over, she was a 67-year-old woman but sounded like a 4-year-old.

I tried concentrating on monitors and sounds. I could hear others around me talking. Three times alarms went off somewhere in the hall indicating a patient was in stress. I had no idea if we'd lost someone yet.

At the top of every hour, one of the three of us got a ten-minute break to sit down and collect ourselves. At the second hour I tried to convince Terry, a nurse from a local hospital to take her break.

"No, you look like you need it more." She insisted. I wandered through the convention hall watching other groups of medical teams working hard and staying focused. It was like I was living in a movie.

I came to a group where Dr. Hutton was working on a woman I recognized from the mess hall in the West Wing. She loved to tease Josh about drinking too much coffee. A man lay in a cot off to her right, shivering. It was Leo. He saw me and smiled so I came to his side.

"Hanging in there?" I asked.

"Your version of revenge?" He struggled hard to get the words out between shivering lips. I smiled and began crying at the same time.

"I know you'll make it. You're too much of an old grouch not to." I squeezed his hand. My ten minutes were up and I dashed back to my station.

Four hours passed like a train flying by. The patients were tired and shaking and I felt like a failure. There were no signs of it even helping a little. We took blood before collecting up equipment and giving them warm blankets. Then we exited through the double door system in groups of three. Back in the central room, Zoey sat up as we entered. She had stayed behind to handle things on the outside.

"How did it go?" She asked cheerfully.

"I don't know yet." I dropped into a chair and dozed off.

An hour later someone shook my shoulder. Dr. Hitachi and Dr. Hutton stood above me. They told me a few patients no longer had viable virus in their blood. I blinked to make sure I wasn't still dreaming, "you're sure?"

Dr. Hitachi grinned, "I think it's a good sign."

A few hours later more blood taken showed that almost half the patients no longer had the virus in their bloodstream, including the President. We all breathed relief and I composed an update for the press.

20 minutes later I stood in the room full of cameras. I was taking questions after reading the statement.

"Well, Matt, the symptoms will get gradually better, like recovering from the flu. I can't really put a timetable on it because it will be different for each one but I expect in the next few days the President will be up and around."

"No, the quarantine will drop only once all 338 patients are free from signs of live virus in their bodies."

"Debbie, I can't comment on the investigation. The FBI, the Secret Service, and National Security are working on that aspect. We, of course, are giving them any information we have about the virus to help them but that's were our knowledge on the subject ends."

"We can expect some response to this by the President. But whether that will translate into new limits on scientific research, I have no idea."

After what seemed like hours but was probably only 10 minutes, I exited the room and found Kyle waiting for me in the hall. Autopsy results for the janitor that had died came in. He died from a drug interaction between the anti-viral meds we gave him and some recreational drugs already in his system.

"If he'd told us he was using, he wouldn't have died." Kyle said, handing the file back to his boss Dr. Capp.

"Yeah." I felt better about it, but still a little responsible. I would have preferred that no one died no matter how it happened.

Kyle walked back to a quiet room with me and I sat down and drank water, trying to relax after the press conference.

"You're getting very good at them, you know." He waved his hand in the general direction of the room I was just in. I smiled but didn't say anything. I was thinking about CJ's reaction to his suggestion; she'd not be able to control her laughter. 

"Maybe this is inappropriate to say this given the circumstances," Kyle began, "But when this is done, I'd really like it if we could get together for coffee or something." It was almost funny to me. Four days ago I would probably have said yes. But in that time I had realized, without telling Sam yet, that I was in love and nothing mattered in my life more than him.

"Kyle, I'm flattered and I think your wonderful but I'm..." I couldn't bring myself to tell someone the good news before Sam heard it. I could picture the smile on his face while I told him and the possibility of what might follow that made me shiver. 

"You and Sam Seaborne are together, aren't you?" Kyle finished my sentence for me. "I could see it in your eyes the other night when you looked at him in that bed. I just didn't want to believe it."

"I'm sorry, Kyle." The honesty in my voice helped. His expression changed from troubled to relaxed and he gave me a small smile.

FBI Director Thomas Lou came into the room, "I'm very sorry to interrupt but could you get away for about an hour and come with me?" He asked me, I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Sure." I said.

"Jack Martin is refusing to say anything unless he sees you. You only have to go in for a minute." He explained in the car. We got out at D.C. Police Headquarters and he led me inside, up an elevator, and down a hall. Inside a room there were some Secret Service and a few cops. A TV screen allowed me to see Jack sitting in an interrogation room alone. I was briefed on what to say and what not to. There would be men outside the door and men watching by a camera inside the room, they pointed to the TV.

I stepped inside and an iron door shut behind me. I didn't move. He looked up at me and sat up straighter.

"Please sit down." He invited, as if I'd just walked into his living room.

"No, that's OK." I took a deep breath and forced myself to slow down my heart rate. "Just tell me why you did this Jack."

He smiled at me, "sit down and I'll explain it all." He dragged out the story taking as long as he could. Between sentences he would stare at my chest. First he told me about Jay, convincing him to bring home the virus he was working on. Then he talked about coming into work, placing the canister in the venting system and leaving the West Wing before it was set to open.

"But why?" I finally interrupted his story. The FBI had already figured this part out, they just didn't get the motive.

"For you, baby." He gave me another suggestive look. "I have heard you say it a thousand times to that ice queen of a Press Secretary. You say that the President and his staff don't think you're important or needed." He leaned back as if it was all the answer I needed.

"I'm not sure I'm..." My headache was coming back.

"I knew all you needed was a chance to prove yourself. I knew the virus was most effective when released into the water and in the air people would get sick but not die right away. So, I gave you the time and the chance to prove yourself by curing them. I knew you could do it." He explained. I sat processing all he was implying. It was too much for me.

"Now I know that you are going to be very grateful to me for making your career." He said and grinned. I got up and crossed the room.

"I would like to leave now." I banged on the metal door and it slid open.

"Wait for me, baby, I'll be out in a few years." He yelled after me as Director Lou helped me down the hall and handed me a cup of coffee.

"Thank you." He said. I studied him to see if he was joking.

"Are you kidding me? Didn't you hear him? He did this because of me." I shook as a spoke.

"He's a lunatic. What matters more is that you're the one who saved everyone's life." He patted my back like a father sooths his child after scraping a knee. "Come on, I'll take you back."

In the hours I had been gone, the biohazard level had been reduced, there was no longer a threat of the virus being communicable. Zoey convinced me to go up the elevator to a hotel suite reserved for me that I had yet to use. She flopped on the bed and turned the TV on. I could hear my own voice from various press conferences played on all the news channels as she flipped through them.

I went into the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. I undressed and stepped in. It stung my skin but I had been numb the past three days and it felt good to feel something. I spent 20 minutes taking my time. I used the hairdryer attached to the wall near the sink to dry my hair. I spread lotion over my legs and arms then put on the hotel bathrobe. I stepped outside and saw Zoey asleep. It was only 8 PM but I turned off the TV and climbed into the other double bed and closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes and sat up. It must have been the sounds of the shower running that woke me. I looked at the clock, I had slept twelve hours. Zoey came out of the bathroom, she had changed clothes and looked more refreshed than she had in three days. There was a knock at the door.

"I ordered some food, I'm starving." She announced moving to let the room service guy in. Two hours later we went downstairs. The central room had been put back into some order. Papers were filed into boxes and computers had been removed. Dr. Hitachi came over and shook my hand.

"We've just downgraded the biohazard level to 2, two weeks of limited confinement will be necessary of course, but I expect they'll all make a full recovery. Great job." Kyle, Dr. Hutton and others offered similar thanks and congratulations.

"You can see them now, without the suit." Kyle reminded me.

I walked down the red wallpapered hall again and stopped outside the module with its doors now standing open. They meant something to me, a metaphorical throwing open the door of my mind. The things I had not considered in the past three days or in the past six months, all sprung free at once, like crowds exiting a commuter train.

I had spent six months in Washington working for a man that I admired. I admired him so much that I was willing to leave the field I loved to work in a field I knew nothing about. I had been completely unprepared, but this staff threw their arm around my shoulder and said, 'come on with us' in spite of my lack of competence. And just when I got overconfident, when I felt better than the people we represented, Toby would pull me back to myself. He would remind me I was only human and only one of millions on this planet. His words said "you are nothing special" and I would get angry and we'd blow up. I hadn't realized the meaning behind them until now. Every one of us- Myself, Josh, Sam, the President, CJ, Leo, and even Toby- isn't special on our own. What makes us special is what we are together.

I owed them all for their friendship and love. Even Toby, whom I believed before today to be my mortal enemy. I had so much to fight for these past days and only after the fight was over did I realize how much I could have lost.

I hadn't even recognized I was crying until Sam walked past the doors inside the hall. He saw me standing at them and stopped. The module of double doors was between us as well as the decision of which one of us was going to give in and cross. I had imagined that it would be the hardest thing in my life before the attack, it was in fact so easy to make this decision. I took three steps to stand near him. Sam reached up and brushed my cheek.

"I promised you." He whispered before we kissed.

*****Four Weeks Later******

The celebration in the White House State Dinning Room was for the bill passed last week to increase NIH research funding but also to initiate new guidelines for grant review panels and reporting findings to journals. It was a bill co-written by myself and it had also been my idea to invite the doctors and investigators who had worked hard in the days after the viral attack to the celebration tonight.

We stood in the Oval office at the last meeting of the day, already dressed in formal clothes.

"Alright, what's next?" Leo looked to each of us in turn, we all shook our heads. "Good. Remember that this is a night to celebrate. Forget about work for a few hours and have some champagne."

The senior staff began filling out of the Oval Office. CJ had promised Danny a dance, Toby and Sam had written an elegant speech the President would read later that evening, and Leo was giving himself the first weekend off since Bartlet took office, starting after the party was over tonight.  


"Gracie, could you stay for a moment?" The President asked. I turned at the doorway, "of course." He hadn't called me 'Gracie' in years, and he only ever did when something serious needed to be discussed.

"About seven months ago you came into the office and looked like you were going to pass out. Do you remember?"

"Yes, Sir, I do."

"I asked if you would take this job and do you remember what you said?"

"I said I would give it six months and then I would turn you down." I shrugged. "Maybe I underestimated."

He grinned, "how about you give it six years, then turn me down?"

"Deal." I walked with the President out of the Oval Office to the party to drink champagne and dance and celebrate victories over illness, fear, and misunderstanding with my great friends and my new love.

*****

Re·sis·tance (rî-zîs¹tens) noun  
1\. The act or an instance of resisting or the capacity to resist.  
2\. An underground organization engaged in a struggle for national liberation in a country under military or totalitarian occupation.  
3\. Biology   
a. The capacity of an organism to defend itself against a disease.   
b. The capacity of an organism or a tissue to withstand the effects of a harmful environmental agent.

*****


End file.
